


Focoso, or fiery passion

by AQuill2Thrill



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Also let’s pretend I know anything about piano bars, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, And he’s really damn good, Boston, Cunnilingus, Daddy Kink, Dominant Kylo Ren, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Gift fic for KylosWidow, House Dadam, I do not regret combining those two classic lines, Inspired by Art, Kylo plays piano, Light Dom/sub, Living in a lonely world, Piano Bar, Praise Kink, Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No. 3, Rey’s Just a Poor Girl, Safewords, Size Difference, Size Kink, Snoke Being a Dick, Spanking, Surprising amount of feels, also
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:01:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25272082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AQuill2Thrill/pseuds/AQuill2Thrill
Summary: “You love this, don’t you?” he asked darkly, his grip unwavering as his other hand fingered selections on some fancy screen embedded in the shower wall. “I was going to be so gentle with you after such a stressful night. I wanted to lick all that wine off of you, let you soak in my tub, maybe make love to you later, if you’d have me….”His nose grazed her temple as the fingers of his free hand skirted down her abdomen, and holy fucking shit, she’d never been so turned on in her life. “But I can see you need something a bit… rougher to work out your frustrations.”
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 12
Kudos: 170
Collections: House Dadam, Star Wars





	Focoso, or fiery passion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KylosWidow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KylosWidow/gifts).



> greetings to you all ❤️
> 
> this little (big?) oneshot is a gift for my dear, dear friend & dyad, Krista Ren (@KylosWidow on twitter). it was 100% inspired by her inCREDIBLE first digital painting that you need to check out RIGHT. NOW.
> 
> [Krista’s mouthwatering artwork.](https://twitter.com/kyloswidow/status/1280871975217438720?s=21)
> 
> the featured song (Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No. 3) is Adam’s favorite, and therefore ours, so go listen to that while you ogle her painting for full effect.
> 
> NOW, without further ado, the filth:

Rey skipped up the back steps of _Andante’s_ , twirling her hair into a tight bun against her crown. Though she’d worked there for the better part of three years, she was still overly critical of her appearance, so she did her best to look the part of _fancy piano bar bartender_ every night. Her amazing boss, Maz, encouraged her to dress comfortably, gently reminding her of the casual atmosphere she tried to create for Boston’s lofty elite. But after surviving an adolescence defined by literal self-preservation, Rey couldn’t escape her sixth sense for workplace professionalism. The only job she’d ever lost was thanks to a stray food stain she’d failed to notice, and she’d spent the next while reminiscing over what it had tasted like. Rent and utilities certainly hadn’t cared if her stomach were empty, and the pang of hunger was a pain not easily forgotten. Needless to say, she’d since become the poster child for flawless personal appearance.

So despite Maz’s tired sighs and rolling eyes, she always reported for duty with immaculate presentation.

That was, until last night….

It was her own fault, really. But Rose’s 25th birthday celebration had promised booze, board games, and romcoms galore, so she couldn’t exactly turn any of it down. The proverbial nail in her coffin had been hammered by her very best friend, Finn, when he’d appeared with her favorite vodka and a twinkle in his eye. He’d known exactly what he was doing, the prick, and after an unhealthy amount of shots, she’d been spouting off her heart’s deepest desires as if she were naming Santa’s reindeer.

“I need a good dicking,” she’d confessed out of the blue, unblinking. Finn all but choked mid-shot, spraying whipped cream vodka all over Rose’s kitchen counter. “Does Poe have a hot brother I don’t know about?”

“God no!” cried Rose, faux retching into the sink. “Do you _want_ to catch some incurable disease?!”

_“Hey,”_ growled Finn, sputtering. “That’s my boyfriend you’re talking about!”

Rose snorted. “And you disagree?”

“...I made him get tested before we did anything,” he admitted sheepishly, folding his arms. Then, growing indignant, “But that doesn’t give you the right to—”

_“Guys,_ I’m serious!” Rey whined pathetically, swinging her legs from her perch the counter opposite. “It’s been actual _years_ and my toys just aren’t cutting it anymore. I need _help!”_

Rose hummed and scratched her chin. “What about Jess’s brother, Snap? He’s older, probably more experienced….” Her eyebrows lifted hopefully.

“Ugh, _no_. I met him at her graduation last year, and he just gave me weird vibes.”

Rey had kept her eyes glued to the brocade-patterned floor, praying her answer sounded reasonable enough. Snap had actually been unfailingly polite for the entirety of their brief interaction. He was handsome even, in a boy-next-door sort of way. But despite his abundance of adequacies, Rey had been royally flabbergasted once she realized what—or rather, _whom_ —she’d been comparing him to….

His imposing person stood in glorious splendor at the forefront of her mind. Broad shoulders, distractingly so. A wild mop of hair, dark as sin, whispering promises of softness every time he moved. Teasing, tantalizing eyes the color of delicious toffee, daring her to look her fill, to take what she wanted. Tall. So _delectably_ tall. Hands the size of dinner plates….

Aaaaand now she was horny.

As she pushed open the door to the small break room, Rey forced herself to clear her fuzzy head. Maz was counting on her as always, but rumor had it that the “Supreme Leader” of New England’s restaurant scene himself was due to visit any day. Anthony Snoke’s opinion could make or break an establishment, years of hard work be damned, and Rey would sooner confess her crush on her infuriatingly beautiful coworker than incite the wrath of Snoke upon Maz’s livelihood. If she had her way, neither of those things would be happening anytime soon.

She glanced up at the plain wall clock ticking tirelessly across the room. Its simple hands told her she had about an hour left till showtime.

Well, she couldn’t put it off much longer.

Heaving a sigh, she rechecked her outfit—a perfectly pressed button up and dark slacks—for the hundredth time, popped a couple aspirin from the trusty bottle she kept in her locker for emergencies, and stepped out into the dining room as unobtrusively as possible.

Her efforts weren’t for naught, thank god. No one seemed to notice as she mixed among the crowd of harried waitstaff. Alarmingly, they seemed even more on edge than usual for a Saturday night, and when she finally found Maz giving out marching orders from front of the house, the look in her boss’s eyes told her all she needed to know.

Tonight was the night. Snoke was coming.

_Oh fuck…._

Just then, as if her world weren’t already crashing down around her, an irately familiar melody wafted toward her from across the room, and Rey cursed under her breath.

“Rachmaninoff’s _Piano Concerto Number Three_ ,” Maz had told her the first time the pianist had played it. “I’m not sure I’ve ever heard him perform it aside from when his mother stops in. It’s her favorite.”

Naive Rey had instantly loved it. “I don’t blame her. It’s beautiful.”

The opening notes were light and airy like a sweet, fresh-baked pastry, enticing her with the promise of fluffy, melt-in-her-mouth perfection. As they’d slowly grown more intense and complex, however, so too had her desire to hear more. Like some rich, delicious wine, the melodies had poured over her in a proverbial waterfall of intoxicating libations.

Basically, she’d been addicted from the start.

And he fucking _knew it_. She wasn’t sure how he’d figured it out. Could he feel the way her pulse began to race from twenty yards away? Had he seen her flush scarlet even while her back was to him when she pretended to polish the tumblers? Oh _god,_ what if Maz had said something to him?!

Dammit. No matter what, she was screwed. Her traitorous eyes flitted to where the man in question sat ramrod straight upon his stool of dark leather, his hands flying over the piano keys with practiced ease. His heavy brows and plush lips were pursed in concentration, but those enchanting eyes—the ones made of the most enticing toffee—flashed up to meet her own set of hazels.

Even as her breath caught and all other stimuli fled her notice, he never faltered. Every note landed perfectly, every refrain gave her rapt pause. She tried to swallow, but her mouth was strangely dry as a desert, and she had to clear her throat to keep from choking.

He actually smirked, the smug bastard. Her moment of graceless splendor had broken whatever eye-fucking thing he’d been trying to pull, and Rey felt even more bereft than she usually did when he wrapped up the piece. She shook her head as if to clear it, but it was no use.

Kylo Ren, _Andante’s_ piano bar pianist and probable sex god, owned her on a molecular level.

And she was pretty sure he knew it.

.%*#*%.

The night began not unlike most other Saturdays. Three groups of girlfriends had come in for ”self-care cosmos,” about half a dozen creepy guys had tried to flirt some free booze out of her, and a couple of wasted friends had to be escorted out by security. All in all, it was a fairly normal night.

Then Snoke walked in.

It was almost instantaneous, the shadow of reluctant reverence that fell over the staff as they took notice of him—not unlike an army of ants eyeing a hungry spider. He was accompanied by a younger pair of people, both dressed as smartly as he was—one a fiery redhead, the other a pale blonde—PAs, Rey guessed. Maz herself led them to the table with the best view of the piano, and when Kylo picked up on Snoke’s presence, whatever plucky, upbeat tune he’d been playing transformed into something much darker… and familiar.

Oh god. _The Imperial March_. He was playing the villain’s theme from Rey’s favorite trilogy of geeky movies, _Galaxy Battles._

Her blood turned to ice.

What the actual _fuck_ did he think he was doing?! Yes, it was part of his act to pick up on conversations and things happening around him and react to them with his instrument, but did he honestly believe treating Anthony Snoke to Darth Vader’s theme song was at all appropriate? Dear god, they were ruined.

Then, wonder of wonders, he laughed.

Anthony Snoke actually _laughed_. It was a cold, blood curdling sound, but a laugh nonetheless. Despite his response, his companions did not react, opting instead to pour over the menu with stoic concentration. Their dedication to the task was enough to make Rey’s hungover head throb.

“Well chosen, my boy,” Snoke crooned from his bubble of self-importance. “Though I’d argue it takes a villain to know one.”

Kylo’s eyes flashed up from his task, blatantly unrepentant. It was obvious he would’ve picked that song even if he’d had a chance to choose all over again, but that wasn’t what stumped Rey.

_...it takes a villain to know one._

What the fuck did _that_ mean?

Before she had time to consider it, a waiter ran up to her with another frantic drink order, and the restaurant came alive once more.

This was bound to be a long night.

.%*#*%.

Was it possible for one human being to be so positively _unpleasant?_

Rey wasn’t sure. Perhaps the man _wasn’t_ human at all—that would certainly explain the ghastly shape of his face or the evil glint in his black eyes. The fact that Maz hadn’t thrown Anthony Snoke from her restaurant the moment he’d walked in was steadily becoming more and more astounding.

First, his appetizers had been “atrociously” undercooked, wholly inedible, he’d declared. His experience had worsened exponentially when they’d failed to produce some high brow brand of whiskey that Rey had never heard of, but she felt responsible nonetheless. He’d then sent his entree back at _least_ four times, decrying some minor inaccuracy or other, until the unfortunate chef was nearly in tears. He’d finally concluded his meal with the most indulgent and beloved dessert on the menu: Maz’s infamous cherry cheesecake.

The elder staff often told rumors of world leaders breaking bread over a healthy slice of Maz’s life-altering dessert. For all they knew, it had prevented wars, forged alliances, and remedied a multitude of sins—perhaps all in a single day.

She guessed that was why, when Snoke had all but spat his mouthful across the room, everyone in the vicinity fell silent as the grave.

No one had ever treated Maz’s slice of heaven in such a crude manner.

“Ugh! Disgusting,” hissed Snoke, throwing his napkin onto the table. “I fear I ingested a year’s worth of sugar in that single taste. I’ll be sick even before the check comes!”

Rey rolled her eyes, equal parts furious and unconvinced. There was no way in _hell_ Snoke hadn’t enjoyed that half-second of transcendent confectionary perfection. Though, she had to admit, he was particularly disgusting himself. Perhaps he’d shrivel up and die were he to ingest something so purely delicious.

“My apologies, sir,” squeaked the poor waiter, a polite, quiet man named Mitaka. Rey could tell he was sweating bullets even from her bar several feet away. “May I get you anything else?”

Snoke growled. “First of all, get this out of my sight.” He made a dismissive gesture, as if he couldn’t stand the unfortunate piece of cheesecake invading his presence any longer. “And boy,” he then added. “Bring me your finest glass of Alderaanian wine. A 1977 or older would be acceptable.”

“Y-yes sir!” Mitaka stuttered, nearly tripping over himself in his rush to remove the discarded plates from Snoke’s table. Once he’d made it safely on his way, Rey remembered herself and the drink order her new least favorite patron had just demanded.

Alderaanian wine… a 1977? She wracked her brain, mentally reviewing her inventory. She was certain they had at least one bottle, but despite her best efforts, she couldn’t recall the year off the top of her head. She nodded to the other bartender to let him know she was stepping away, and he actually mouthed _good luck_ before she departed for the cellar.

God knew she’d need it.

Much to her chagrin, the trek to the cellar required her to pass directly in front of Kylo and his magical piano. She averted her gaze, ducking her head and praying he was too distracted by Snoke’s griping to notice.

No such luck.

As soon as she rounded one of the larger, more crowded tables beside him, his eyes were on her. He’d been playing a whimsical rendition of _Cruella DeVille_ after a Karen a few tables over refused to tip her waitress, and those who’d picked up on it were cackling as the old biddy was escorted out. However, Rey knew the moment she was in his sights, for the pounding notes of the chorus transformed into those of Rachmaninoff’s _Piano Concerto Number Three_.

_Jesus fucking Christ…._

She speed-walked past him, hands balled into fists at her sides even as her entire body prickled with goose flesh. Was it hot in here, or was it just her? Rey’s cheeks burned as a few patrons eyed her curiously, and she nearly fell to kiss the ground once she made it safely into the cellar.

She was going to murder Kylo Ren.

Shaking the nervous energy from her trembling hands, she set to work weaving through the shelves. Alderaanian wine was so rarely requested and difficult to procure, Maz insisted on keeping it in the back and off of the menu. Rey had never served it in her tenure behind the bar, and she never would’ve known they even _had_ a bottle if Maz hadn’t pointed it out during one of her early attempts at inventory. As she finally arrived in front of its shelf—in the darkest, most unassuming corner of the cellar, no less—Rey picked up the ornate old bottle with care. Considering Maz treated it like solid gold, she would, too.

After carefully closing the door behind her, she decided to take the long way around the dining room in hopes of not only avoiding Kylo, but also any distracted patrons and waitstaff.

She didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath until she flat out _gasped_ once she and her precious cargo were safely behind the bar.

Focusing on Kylo’s current tune—a lively rendition of _Piano Man_ —she selected one of their best long stem wine glasses from the rack overhead, popped the bottle open, and poured a generous amount of the blood red wine, praying the bit of excess might appease their customer from hell. Lord only knew what he’d do if she didn’t bring him _enough._

When Mitaka appeared to pick it up, Rey waved him off, insisting on delivering it herself. His excess nervousness didn’t exactly earn her vote of confidence, and she’d be damned if she’d stand idly by as he dropped the priceless drink on the gleaming marble floor. Her ass would be on the line in either case, so she figured she may as well take full responsibility for the order and be done with it.

With that, she was on her way to Snoke’s table, weaving through the raucous diners as they laughed and joked over some ridiculous song Kylo was now playing in response to a tipsy patron. She was forced to dodge flying hands, overburdened waitstaff, and the back of a chair as one man stood abruptly from his seat. By the time she reached Snoke’s table, she felt about as nervous as Mitaka looked, but she forced herself to present a calm front as she placed the glass on the table.

“Your Alderaanian wine, sir,” she announced, not unkindly. He gave her a blatantly lascivious once over before reaching to take the glass, and her skin crawled. As he brought it to his lips, however, she found herself less appalled by his openly disgusting behavior and more worried to hear his opinion of the drink she’d worked so hard to bring him. God, if he didn’t like it, who knew how he’d react?

Right on cue, the piece that was quickly becoming her own theme song drifted through the air, and it took all her willpower not to react outwardly. Regardless, her poor heart set a dangerously fast pace, and her palms grew damp.

Then, Snoke spoke.

“Ahhh. Just as lovely as I remembered. Tell me, my dear, what year was this bottle from?”

Oh no.

_No no no no no!_

Panic shot through her like a bolt of lightning, and she fumbled for an answer.

She’d forgotten to check the year.

“I-I’m _so_ sorry, sir, I completely forgot to check—”

Snoke’s smile was almost kind. “Oh, don’t fret, child. I was quite the sommelier in my younger days, and the nectar of Alderaan was among the first I learned to discern. I believe I can tell you _exactly_ what year this is from.”

“You… you can?” asked Rey, clasping her trembling hands in front of her. Snoke took another contemplative sip.

“Why yes, I believe I can. You see, the batches made prior to 1977 were among the last created according to the millennia-old recipe.”

He paused expectantly, so Rey nodded. Had she anticipated receiving a history lesson from simply attempting to fulfill an order, she may have sent Mitaka regardless of his clumsiness. The glass gleamed in the low light as Snoke tasted its contents once more, twirling the stem between his fingers.

“Post-1977, however, the recipe was lost after we dropped an atomic bomb on the capital city of Alderaan during the Great War. Such a shame, really, but I suppose that’s the price we pay for glory… Anyway, Alderaanian wine made in years since lacks many of the original notes belonging to its ancestor, and therefore, is held in far lower regard by those with discerning tastes such as myself.”

Rey suddenly realized the entire restaurant had grown silent, everyone hanging on Snoke’s every word. Even Kylo’s piano was quiet, much to her unsettling dismay. She swallowed the bile rising in her throat just as her next question met her lips.

“When do you believe it is from then, Mr. Snoke?”

His formerly kind-ish smile returned, but the glint in his eye put her on edge. He answered slowly, drawing out the word like some cryptic curse. 

_“1979.”_

Rey blanched as Snoke craned his neck to address her fellow bartender across the room.

“Boy!” he barked. “What year is that from?”

He lifted the bottle from the back counter, paling as his eyes met the label.

“...1979, sir.”

Snoke beamed as he returned his attention to Rey, chuckling a cold tune as she struggled with her fight or flight response.

“See? I told you I would figure it out. And I never lose.”

Before his words could even register in her mind, Snoke doused her with what remained of his unsatisfactory drink, and she gasped in shock.

“Pity. I had such high hopes for this quaint little establishment, but it’s obvious Maz doesn’t value the needs of her clientele. Come Hux, Phasma. We’re leaving.”

Rey stood frozen in place even as the priceless wine soaked all the way to her skin, lewdly plastering her once-white shirt to her torso. Over the roaring in her ears, she hadn’t heard the toppeling of Kylo’s piano stool as he’d shot up from his post, blindly furious on her behalf. Neither had she heard him approach, swinging his suit coat from his shoulders to drape over hers.

It was as if he’d just materialized out of thin air, there at her back. If she hadn’t been so distracted by the chill of the wine or Snoke’s blessed departure, she might’ve jumped when the weight of his jacket settled over her.

“Rey,” he murmured, and she realized she’d never actually heard him speak before. It was probably a good thing, she decided, because now she never wanted him to stop. “Are you alright? Let’s get you to the break room.”

She nodded, but she was still fairly numb to the world around her. Kylo’s hand was a scorching presence on the small of her back, and she heeded its guidance as he led her out of the dining room and down the back hall.

To Rey’s great mortification, Maz met them in the break room doorway.

“Oh, Maz! I’m so, _so_ sorry.”

“Poor thing…” she sighed, leading Rey into the room. Kylo followed like some dark specter saddled with babysitting a silly mortal, and her face burned as she realized what an idiot she’d become in the moments following Snoke’s temper tantrum.

“Ugh, why didn’t I slap him?!” she growled, flopping into one of the plastic chairs like a petulant child. “How fucking _rude_ can one person be?!”

“I’m so sorry, Rey. I should have served him myself, but I only thought he might be impressed by your professionalism and offer you a better position….”

Rey snorted. _“Maz._ You honestly think I’d leave _Andante’s_ for some over the top, snobbish place like _Supremacy?_ Not in a million years!”

The elder woman grinned, eyes shining behind her Coke bottle glasses. “Alright, alright. Well, you’re done for tonight, young lady. And take tomorrow too for that matter—anyone forced to serve Anthony Snoke deserves at _least_ that much. Come to think of it, poor Mitaka may need an entire week!”

Maz and Rey giggled in agreement, their pity for the man notwithstanding. It took a throat clearing nearby to politely remind them they weren’t alone, and they looked to its source with no small amount of sheepishness.

“May I drive you home, Rey?” Kylo asked, charmingly timid for such a large man. A hand reached up to run through his hair, and Rey tracked the motion like a dog ogling a bone. Words utterly failed her as she stared up at him, so Maz took it upon herself to answer on her behalf.

“That is so kind of you, Kylo! She would appreciate that very much, wouldn’t you Rey?”

God, she was sooooo fucked. “Uh huh.”

“Cool. Uh, cool, that’s—” his throat bobbed. “That’s….”

They were idiots, obviously. Rational thought had completely eluded them, and they’d been rendered as good as mute. Maz rubbed her eyes, sighing tiredly.

“Go on, you two. Get out of here before you do something I’ll regret. I swear,” she muttered then, almost too quiet to hear. “Leia owes me big time for this.”

Rey had no idea what on earth she was talking about, but when her petite manager all but shoved her and Kylo out the door of the break room, Rey found herself hardly caring either way.

Kylo’s hand was on her back again. Everything else fell away.

.%*#*%.

When Kylo had offered to take her home, she should’ve known he’d have some ridiculously expensive car for her to ruin with her wine-stained garb. She didn’t know much about brands, but this one just _screamed_ speeding bullet, and it was as black as his midnight hair. She looked down at the expertly upholstered passenger seat and winced.

“Kylo, I greatly appreciate your offer, but I’m afraid I can’t accept… the wine has me pretty well soaked and—”

“Rey,” he stopped her. “I insist.”

God… what were they talking about again?

He jostled the door as he nodded toward the seat, and Rey finally returned to her senses. She was certain her cheeks were tomato red as she carefully lowered herself into the seat, doing her best to keep the worst of the wine stains from touching anything. Without another word, Kylo closed the door behind her and jogged around to the driver’s side.

“Thank fuck we’re out of there,” he muttered darkly as he slid in beside her, fastening his seatbelt. “A moment longer and I may actually have tracked him down and given him a taste of his own medicine.”

Her heart beat unevenly as his tone. What did it say about her that the burning malice in his voice was _doing things_ to her?

When a sudden tremor rocked her spine, Kylo glanced over nervously.

“Sorry, you’re probably freezing. Let me get the heat going.”

As his perfectly enormous hands adjusted the climate controls, Rey’s heart did a weird fluttery thing. Sure, she’d initially been attracted to him for his sex god exterior, but at least _that_ was easily offset by his infuriating habit of teasing her with his fancy _piano concertos_. Now that he was here, close enough to touch, and fussing over her as no one else ever had….

The LED screens in the center of the dashboard grew strangely blurry as she watched him tap various options. She tried _desperately_ not to cry, she really did, but then a tiny squeak snuck out with a breath, and his eyes darted toward her once more.

“Rey? Are you okay, sweetheart?” he asked, cradling her face in his hands. She barely held back a sob when his thumbs swept the tears from her cheeks.

_Sweetheart?_

“You-you’re being s-so nice,” she blubbered, sniffling pitifully. Her excess emotions overrode her better judgement, for in the next breath, she was pouring her heart out to him. “And I l-like you so m-much, and you—you just called me _s-sweetheart_ — _”_

There was absolutely no way she didn’t look one hundred percent bedraggled in that moment. She was sticky with half-dried wine, her hair was falling out of its bun, and her face was surely red and swollen.

So why was he looking at her as if she were some priceless work of art?

“You… you _like_ me?”

He was so fucking cute and so _fucking_ sexy, Rey couldn’t stifle a watery fit of giggles.

_“Kylo,”_ she eventually managed. “You’ve driven me _insane_ ever since you started playing at _Andante’s_ . I’ll admit it was initially due in large part to your—” she swallowed, looking away—“your _beauty,_ but then you started taunting me with that gorgeous song… and now you’re _taking care_ of me… no one’s ever looked after me before.”

She wasn’t sure how it was possible to feel so simultaneously free and humiliated, but there she was, a living, breathing dichotomy. She closed her eyes then, her heart sinking ever further when she heard his breath catch.

But it was fine. It would be fine. It was better to finally have everything out in the open even if it meant he’d rescind his offer to drive her home. Another commute made possible by public transportation certainly wouldn’t kill her even if his impending rejection did.

He was still frozen in place, his lovely hands trapping her in her embarrassment. More tears slipped free as she reached up to release him from the now-awkward contact, an apology on her next breath.

“I’m so sorr _mmph_ —!”

Perhaps she’d already died of mortification, because somehow, in some bizarre alternate reality, Kylo was _kissing_ her.

His plush lips certainly felt real enough as they moved against hers, tasting her greedily. When his tongue traced her bottom lip, she opened for him without hesitation, curling her own tongue into the hot cavern of his mouth. Teeth clacked in their rush to meld their mouths into one, but neither could be bothered with their lack of finesse to slow the kiss to something more reasonable. Rey was yet convinced she _wasn’t_ dreaming, and in either case, she wouldn’t think twice about frenching Kylo Ren as intensely as humanly possible.

His hands had slipped slowly down to her neck over the course of their makeout session, but he didn’t move them when he broke away for air. On the contrary, he seemed entranced by the column of tanned skin in his grasp. As one hand gripped her jaw, the other traced a featherlight path down, over her racing pulse, and across what was exposed of her collarbone. Her lower belly quivered, desperate to know what he was thinking behind those molten eyes, and when his pink tongue abruptly darted out to wet his kiss-swollen lips, her thighs clamped together in a desperate plea for friction.

Fucking _hell,_ she was done for.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long, Rey…” Kylo murmured, his voice gravelly with want. “Will you let me take care of you…

“Please?”

How could she say no to _that?_

She didn’t trust her voice while under duress of so many emotions, so she simply nodded, a genuine smile curving her lips.

His answering smile was _breathtaking._

After one last kiss wrought full of promise, he released her, and then he was shifting the rolling death trap into gear and they were speeding off into the night.

Rey had never exerted such an excruciating amount of self control in her entire life.

.%*#*%.

They raced along the darkened streets of Boston, their minds of one accord. Or at least, Rey assumed so; Kylo’s hands were all but strangling the poor steering wheel, and she wasn’t fairing much better. In fact, so caught up was she in fantasies about what the night may bring, Rey hadn’t even noticed they _weren’t_ headed in the direction of her microscopic excuse for an apartment.

No, they were barreling toward the _opposite_ end of town—the wealthy side, she realized with growing alarm.

“Ummm, where exactly are you taking me?” she asked, trying her best to locate a landmark of some sort. “I’ve never been to this part of town before.”

For his part, Kylo blushed, offering a guilty smile. “Sorry, I guess I was just on autopilot. I’d like to take you home… if that’s okay? To _my_ home, that is.”

_Home._

_I’d like to take you_ home... **.**

Though she’d heard some variation of that phrase a thousand times, she’d never really had a _home_ before. On the contrary, her childhood had been marked by her search for that impossible dream, for somewhere she could belong. The foster care system hadn’t been kind to her, nor had any of her temporary guardians. If anything, her experiences had taught her not to trust _anyone_ offering to _take her home,_ especially if it weren’t one she’d earned on her own.

Her heart had hardened. Like a diamond from coal, she’d been forged by the overwhelming stresses of her life, and she wasn’t sure she knew how to navigate that reality in the context of… whatever this feeling was with Kylo.

She looked over at him, watching him steer expertly through the Saturday night traffic. His sharp eyes were focused on the task at hand even as passing headlights paled him like some ghostly specter. A single dark curl fell over his forehead, displaced when her fingers had tangled into his ebony waves over the course of their kiss.

He was beautiful. _So_ heartbreakingly beautiful, and _talented_ , and _smart_ , and she….

She was an emotionally stunted trainwreck, that’s what. A ragamuffin. Her years spent scrimping and saving to carve out her own place in the world had not only left her feeling unavailable and self-centered, but also a bit dingy and undesirable—like a trinket long forgotten.

He, conversely, was apparently _very_ well off, so what in god’s _name_ did he see in her?

“Rey? Please tell me what you’re thinking. You’re worrying me.”

_Jesus,_ that voice _._ He could ask her to do just about anything, and she’d fall over herself to obey. She took a deep breath, exhaling some of her nerves before replying.

“Kylo… Why me? I mean I’m—” she gestured toward her wine-stained, plain Jane exterior— _“ordinary,_ and you’re—” she repeated the motion over him— “you’re _you,_ and I just… I’m inadequate.”

She couldn’t look at him. He was about to realize his mistake and agree with her damning comparison. He seemed to be a gentleman though, now that she’d come to know him a bit, so she found solace in the likelihood he’d let her down gently.

That’s why, when she heard the unmistakable sound of leather creaking, her pulse doubled, and she glanced over with something akin to awe as his hands tightened impossibly further around the steering wheel.

When he finally spoke, his voice was oddly, beautifully dark.

“Are those your only objections, Rey? Tell me.”

God _dammit,_ she was so completely fucked.

“Um—uh, pretty much,” she choked, wholly inelegant. “I’m not afraid of you if that’s what you mean….”

Even in the dark, she saw him smirk.

“That’s all I needed to know.”

They rounded one last corner at breakneck speed, earning an incensed honk from a passing vehicle, but before Rey could worry much about the unfortunate driver they’d just scared to death, they were flying into a brightly-lit parking garage lined with all manner of expensive-looking cars.

“Text your friends and let them know where you are,” instructed Kylo, wheeling them ever farther up the cyclonic structure. She immediately yanked her phone from her pocket—blessedly unharmed by the wine—and pulled up her group text with Rose, Finn, and Poe. Her shaking fingers worked against her as she typed out the address he rattled off, but she finally hit send just as he brought them to a stop on a near empty deck of the garage.

Only then did he release the abused steering wheel, heaving a breath as he leveled her with his heated gaze.

“Did you send it to them, sweetheart?” he rumbled.

Rey swallowed, tightening her grip on the blazer that still covered her. “Yes.”

Kylo smiled again, deceitfully innocent. “Good girl.”

_Good god…_.

Her lower belly swooped instantly, _beyond_ pleased at the discovery of this new apparent kink, and she couldn’t have stifled her responding whimper if she’d tried.

Without another word, he exited the car, and before she could so much as pop her door open, he was already there to receive her.

She took his proffered hand with no small degree of anxiety, her trembling fingers betraying that fact. When resting in the firm, warm embrace of his, however, her nerves fled like leaves on an autumn breeze, and she sighed her newfound relief. 

Then she was standing before him, daring to hope, and Kylo cleared his throat.

“May I?” he asked, opening his arms slightly. She nodded, expecting some sort of hug, but then he was scooping her up like a hard won war bride, and she yelped as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“I could just _walk_ , you know.”

Kylo chuckled quietly.

“I know, baby. But I wanted to carry you.”

She snorted even as her heart soared. “I realize that _now,_ but I’d appreciate a better warning next time.”

Her words didn’t entirely click until they arrived at an elevator, and he placed her on her feet only to crowd her against the back wall. His hands spanned her waist, yet another testament to their size difference, but then he was leaning in, his perfect mouth against her ear, and she had to grip his arms to keep her knees from buckling.

“I’m _elated_ you’re already planning ahead, sweetheart,” he murmured, a sound like black satin. “As I’m afraid I’m still too focused on everything I want to do to you tonight.”

His teeth found her earlobe, worrying it gently, and Rey’s mind completely shut down. She whimpered her growing arousal, clamping her thighs together as her pussy literally wept for attention. His lips and teeth began a sensual trek down, down the column of her throat, and she feared she’d be a dead woman before they ever arrived at their destination.

That was why, when the elevator finally _pinged,_ she hardly heard it. Kylo, on the other hand, heeded it as a racer would a starting gun.

He lifted her again, though this time her legs straddled his hips; her arms, his neck. He gripped her ass so hard she was sure to feel it for days, but _god_ the thought alone was enough to dampen her panties even further. She grinded against him, desperate for the feel of his gloriously hard member against her cunt. His mouth met hers in a ravenous kiss, tasting her again, moaning a thunderous rumble that resounded deep in her bones.

They’d only just begun, and already, he’d ruined her for anyone else.

He removed them from the sweltering elevator car and into a dimly lit room Rey had to break their kiss to see. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected considering she hardly knew the man she was (hopefully) about to fuck, but when her eyes landed on luxurious furnishings and the minimalistic interior design, another wave of shame crashed over her.

She didn’t _belong_ here.

As tears threatened to overflow once more, Kylo set her on her feet but refused to let her go.

“Rey. Why are you crying?”

He cradled her head in his hands, holding her like something precious, and she had to force herself not to all-out sob.

“I… I can’t do this,” she sniffed, slamming her eyes shut. Of course it did nothing to stem the flow of her insecurities. “I told you—you’re _you_ and I’m _me_ and I don’t belong—”

He stunned her into silence when he shook her head “no.”

“Stop that. I’ve died a little each day since I first saw you; each day I had to wake up without you in my arms. I won’t have you trying to convince yourself you don’t belong there.”

Her eyes flew open at that, and she gawked even as her tears continued. Kylo’s throat bobbed, his swollen pupils watching her with unbridled intensity, but she couldn’t even bring herself to appreciate how gorgeous he looked as her brain struggled to comprehend his confession.

Did he… did he actually _want_ her?

“So much, baby,” he murmured, holding her gaze. She blushed furiously when she realized she’d spoken aloud. “You’re so beautiful, Rey. I’ve wanted you for so long, but I was sure you had far finer taste than a grumpy, weird looking pianist… Then, tonight, when you faced down Anthony Snoke, I just….”

He nuzzled against her temple, inspiring a wave of goosebumps across her entire body. “You were so _brave_ . You didn’t take any of his shit, and I’ve never been so proud of someone in my entire _life.”_

Her heart immediately felt a hundred pounds lighter. He was _proud_ of her? He thought she was _brave?_ God, why did that make her feel as if she’d won the lottery?

“Please, Rey. You work so hard and had such an awful night…. Let me take care of you for however long you’ll have me.”

Was she dreaming? She was probably dreaming. There was no way she was actually in some extravagant penthouse with the man she’d been ogling for _years_ —the hottest guy she’d ever _seen,_ no less—and he certainly wasn’t begging her to _let him take care of her_ …

For as long as she’d let him.

_That’s it!_ She stuffed a proverbial sock in that little niggling voice at the back of her mind, imagining flipping it off and kicking it in its non-existent nuts for good measure. She was going to _fuck_ this man, god dammit, and all her insecurities could go to hell and stay there.

Rey gulped a deep breath, and then she kissed him.

He groaned in obvious pleasure, holding her mouth to his. Slowly, carefully he backed her up, and they moved for so long she realized he must be steering them toward the bedroom.

Needless to say, when they instead arrived at an enormous bathroom, she was a bit befuddled.

He smirked at her confused expression. “You got a little wine on your shirt, remember?” She nodded when his fingers grazed the top button, and he carefully popped it open.

“I’m afraid it’s pretty much ruined,” he observed, even as he released each button with care. “But we’ll get you a new one, baby. I promise.”

She probably should’ve been offended at how he was speaking to her, right? As if she were some messy toddler wearing her dinner….

Why, therefore, did it instead elicit a sigh of _relief_ as he continued with his task?

“May I clean you up, sweetheart?”

_Jesus Christ,_ he could ask for anything with that voice and she’d willingly comply.

He smiled brightly once she gave him her consent, and he worked her down to her underwear with chaste efficiency.

Just as she’d feared, her favorite white bralette was stained a deep, irreparable garnet, and she mourned its loss aloud.

“Stupid, fucking _expensive,_ inadequate _wine—!”_ Like a petulant child, she wrenched it over her head and slapped it to the floor. So distracted was she by her anger, she’d all but forgotten she had an audience…

...who was currently eyeing her like his next meal.

“Gorgeous,” he whispered, kneeling before her like a saint at an altar. When she tried to cover her breasts, he shackled an arm in each giant hand, leveling her with a stern look.

_“No_. Don’t you dare hide from me.” Her legs wobbled, liquifying at his command. “I want to see all of you, Rey. Unless you want me to stop?”

She nearly laughed at the absurdity of that question. _“God_ no—please don’t stop….”

It was as if she’d thrown a match in a tank of gasoline, the way her words incensed him. He ducked down to her chest, down to where the wine had stained her skin, and licked a scorching stripe back up between her breasts.

Her surprised cry echoed throughout the cavernous bathroom in a lewd report, but it only spurred him on. He repeated the motion a few more times, changing his course with each pass as he lapped the wine away. For her part, Rey was a squirming, panting mess, even more so when he abruptly smirked, and then captured one of her hardened nipples between his lips.

“Oh, _fuck,”_ she moaned. She desperately wished she could spear her fingers in his hair and hold him against her, but he still had her arms trapped in his powerful hands.

“So _sweet_ , baby. The wine of Alderaan is usually dry and at least somewhat bitter,” Kylo mused between kisses. “But on you it tastes…” _lick,_ _suck,_ “mmm… _delicious.”_

With her insecurities long since abandoned, Rey felt a bubble of obstinacy rise in her chest. “Well if I’d thought a bit of wine would finally tempt you into fucking me, I would’ve bathed in that entire bottle _ages_ ago.”

He immediately froze, pinning her with a predatory grin. 

“Well, well, well, my kitten _does_ have claws,“ he crooned, venomously elated. “Come on then, little one. Time for a bath.”

He released her as he stood, only to tangle his long fingers in what was left of her bun, effectively ruining it.

Even as she winced, her panties were _obscenely_ soaked, and like a shark scenting a drop of blood, Kylo knew it.

“You love this, don’t you?” he asked darkly, his grip unwavering as his other hand fingered selections on some fancy screen embedded in the shower wall. “I was going to be _so_ gentle with you after such a stressful night. I wanted to lick all that wine off of you, let you soak in my tub, maybe make love to you later, if you’d have me….”

His nose grazed her temple as the fingers of his free hand skirted down her abdomen, and _holy fucking shit,_ she’d never been so turned on in her _life._ “But I can see you need something a bit… _rougher_ to work out your frustrations.”

His lips found her racing pulse, kissing it far too innocently for the way he’d been talking. She shrieked when the sting of his teeth followed, and it was only then she realized she was begging.

_“Please, please, please, please, pleaseee—”_

He smirked against her skin, and she actually considered slapping him, the ass.

“You beg so sweetly, baby girl, but you’re the one who insisted on getting fucked, so that’s what I intend to do.”

Before she could so much as gasp, his hand at her hip grabbed her plain, wine-and-arousal-drenched underwear and yanked them down her thighs. He lightly grazed her mound as he slowly stood once more, and it was so _infuriatingly_ insufficient, she nearly growled.

“Get in,” Kylo instructed, finally releasing her, and she obediently stepped beneath the spray before she could do something silly like _strangle_ him.

The gloriously hot water inspired a guttural groan as the fancy shower head massaged her skin, and she tilted her head up to let it soak her entirely. She wasn’t sure she’d even seen a shower this nice in a _movie_ , let alone real life, but she knew without a doubt that she’d do anything to get used to this.

“Anything, hm?” purred a self-satisfied voice in her ear. A pale, thick-muscled arm trapped her back against him as his free hand teased a chokehold beneath her jaw. “It’s a lovely offer, Rey, but I’ll settle for getting to keep you if that’s quite alright with you.”

She did growl now, her impatience steadily rising. “Just-just _wash_ me so you can fuck me.”

“As you wish, sweetheart.”

He reached back over his shoulder to procure a bottle of soap, pouring a generous amount into his waiting palm just beneath her breast. He then nudged her from under the water, lathering her from head to toe as quickly as possible.

Even when his hands teased between her legs, he was careful not to touch her as she so desperately wanted, but she decided she could endure it so long as it meant they were that much closer to fucking.

He surprised her by washing her hair too, massaging her scalp with the shampoo that smelled of him, and she had to brace herself against the wall as she relaxed into his ministrations.

Next thing she knew, he’d spun her, rinsing her, and as her head fell forward of its own accord, she caught her first glimpse of his intimidating erection.

_Dear. God._

He easily dwarfed her biggest toy without question, and that thought alone made her mouth water. The handful of guys she’d been with had _nothing_ on him either, and now she was actually kind of worried she wouldn’t be able to take him. It should’ve been obvious, now that she thought about it—he was a large man, of course he’d be...well endowed.

She glanced up at him, her nervousness evident, and he dropped the dom facade long enough to reassure her.

“I won’t do anything to hurt you, Rey. I promise.”

He smiled sweetly when she nodded, and kissed her forehead.

“Daddy’s gonna take such good care of you.”

And just like that, like the final line of some ancient enchantment or lovely curse, she was his.

She shivered as he nuzzled her hairline. “Is that what you want, baby?”

She’d never nodded so fast in her life, and she couldn’t even bring herself to feel embarrassed about it. He chuckled quietly as she got distracted by rivulets racing down his hard muscled torso, and her breath caught when he abruptly gripped her chin, demanding her focus.

“Use your words, Rey. Tell me.”

She gulped. “Yes, I want that…

“Please.” She added for good measure.

His teeth glinted dangerously as another question shaped his lips. “Please _what,_ sweetheart?”

For godssake, he was gonna give her a coronary. She whimpered as he placed a chaste kiss to her lips.

They were really doing this, huh? She was actually about to indulge the one fantasy she hadn’t even been able to explore safely between the sheets of her own lonesome bed.

She focused on the hot, slick bicep beneath her fingers, drawing a deep breath.

“Please… _daddy.”_

He was on her in an instant, moving them from the shower to give each of them a rushed toweling. She barely had time to shut the water off before he’d scooped her up again and stole away with her to the bedroom.

Between urgent kisses, she noticed the room resembled the rest of his sparsely-furnished home, containing only a large four-poster bed, a dresser, and two nightstands—all various shades of black, of course. Paired with his blood red sheets, it was all slightly intimidating.

But her worries were naught but dust. Kylo Ren was kissing her, laying her across his ridiculous bed like some sacrificial offering. His cock grazed her thigh as he followed her down, a desperate search for friction, and she reached for it without a second thought.

Her lover _growled._

“Not yet, baby,” he scolded, snatching both her wrists to hold them high above her head. “If you touch me like that, I’m gonna cum, and I need to accomplish a few things before that happens.”

She writhed beneath him, pouting. “You seriously expect me to be— _ugh_ —patient when the biggest dick I’ve ever seen is literally _right there?”_

He just laughed, the bastard. She hoped he enjoyed lording over her while it lasted; the moment he loosened his grip, it would be _her_ turn.

Then his mouth was on her again, and her grievances were all but forgotten.

“I’m flattered, sweetheart,” Kylo murmured against her breast, tonguing her nipple. “But it seems to me you need a teacher, someone to show you that good things _come_ to those who wait, if you’ll forgive a good pun.”

He smiled like the Cheshire Cat, even as she groaned.

“Would you please just fuck me already, Kylo? We’ve been dancing around each other for _years,_ isn’t that long enough?”

“Too long to wait to get you in my bed, but now that I have you, I plan on keeping you here for quite awhile. And that means,” he whispered, moving back up to find her ear. “I’m going to take my time.”

He seemed to interpret her full body shiver as answer enough.

“Tell me, baby girl,” he then rumbled against her neck, pausing to suck a bruise just over her racing pulse. He chuckled lightly when she whined with pleasure. “How do you want this to go down?”

_“Fuck_ , just— _ah_ —just fuck me— _please_. Whatever you want, I can take it.”

He hummed, a pleased sound. “Are you familiar with red, yellow, and green?”

Rey flushed. She’d never had a reason to use safe words with a partner, but she’d _read_ about people using them many times before. That had to count for something, right?

Well, she may as well go all in, she figured. When in Rome and all that.

“Yes… daddy.”

He had the grace to appear dumbstruck for half a second, and then he was kissing her again.

She moaned openly, casting away the last of her nerves. His hands tightened their grip almost of their own volition while his mouth _sucked_ and _licked_ and _nibbled_ a lewd trail back down her neck, revisiting her breasts.

“Mmm, such pretty tits, baby. So soft…” he purred, tracing her areola with his tongue. Her back arched obscenely as she sought more pressure there. “Cute little nipples for me to suck—” _suck,_ “bite—” _bite,_ “taste—”

_“Ahhh—Kylo!”_ she cried, half crazed as he pulled almost the entire mound of flesh into his mouth. She was actually going to combust at any moment.

“Shhh, it’s alright, sweetheart. If you want me to stop, you know what to say.”

God dammit, he had her there. He moved then to lavish her other breast with the same attention, and she immediately forgot why she’d been frustrated in the first place.

She was near sobbing when he _finally_ ventured further, mouthing his way down her abdomen as if it were his life’s mission to taste every inch of her skin. He was forced to release her wrists, but one steely glance was all it took to keep her frozen in place.

_Anything_ to hurry him along.

“My, my. Look how wet you are,” he mused, slinging a thigh over his shoulder to part her wide, and she blushed furiously under his scrutiny. _“Jesus,_ Rey. I knew you’d be stunning but _god…_ you’re perfect.”

She yelped when a wandering finger trailed along her opening, sending an electric shock of pleasure from her cunt up to her chest. Kylo hummed, smug over this latest success in driving her mad, and he repeated the motion a few more times for good measure.

As if she weren’t already a mess of nerves and desire, she was a mewling, writhing creature of want by the time he finally, _finally_ grazed her clit.

_“Shhh_ , hush, little one,” he whispered, his heated gaze meeting hers as he thumbed a sensitive nipple. “I think it’s about time I taste you, don't you think?”

“Mmhmm,” she managed, panting as she watched him disappear behind a curtain of dark hair when he ducked down to her pussy. She felt rather than saw the thickness of his tongue run through her sensitive flesh, and she had to fist her hands in the sheets to keep them from twining into his hair.

“So good, baby,” he praised, lapping at her greedily. “So sweet… just for _me.”_

He suddenly drew her clit between his lips, sucking _hard_ while his lovely, maddening tongue teased the swollen bud. Her hips lifted of their own accord, desperate for _more, more, more_.

It was a thing of beauty, a thing of torture, the way he worked her with nothing but his mouth, and Rey was now helplessly addicted, a willing victim to his designs and a prisoner to his small mercies.

Then his teeth _ever_ so gently grazed her now-engorged little button, and she actually _screamed._

He didn’t let up though, much to her tortured delight. If anything, he worked her double, growling against her flesh like some starved beast. His fingers returned to their former explorations, gathering her dripping wetness to ease their glide when he finally penetrated her.

_“Fuck!”_ she cried, equal parts relief and torment. Those long, perfect fingers she’d so often ogled as he keyed some impressive tune or other were now inside her, playing her cunt with virtuosic precision. He scissored them between slow thrusts, his mouth not once letting up on her poor clit, and a familiar pulsing began to build between her legs.

“That’s it, sweetheart.” _Lick._ “I feel you tightening up. Let it build. Don’t you dare cum till I tell you to.”

_“Hnngh—!”_ Was he actually trying to kill her?

“You can take it, remember? Whatever I want. And I _want_ to give you the best orgasm of your life. So do what I _say—”_

_Thrust. Suck. Lick._

“—and fucking _cum—”_

_“Ahhhh—!”_

“—right _now.”_

_“Kylo!”_

Rey wailed as she found her release, her entire body seizing and relenting in rhythmic, blissful contractions. He abruptly crooked his fingers against that magical patch along her front wall, and then her first orgasm was stretching, evolving into a second. Her hands couldn’t take it anymore; they gripped his hair like a lifeline as she rode him for all he was worth.

She felt reborn. Metamorphosed. When her legs finally gave out, she released him, gasping for breath as she begged her shaking limbs to calm in the wake of her afterglow. Somehow, her half-hearted hunch about Kylo Ren had been wonderfully, blessedly true.

He _was_ a sex god incarnate, and he’d just delivered her to a new plain of existence.

“Are you okay, Rey?” he asked, and she nearly laughed at how legitimately concerned he sounded. “You did so well, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you.” He crawled back over her, careful to keep his weight off of her as he placed a series of sweet little kisses along her throat.

_“Kylo,”_ she eventually breathed. “Please—please fuck me now.” The urgency with which she needed him inside her _right that second_ nearly frightened her.

She felt him smirk into the junction of her neck, and her pulse quickened when he chuckled.

“Sweet—”

He raised up.

“insatiable—”

Grabbed her hips.

_“little—”_

Flipped her over.

_“girl.”_

_Slap!_

_“Ahhhhh!”_

Holy. Fuck.

Holy fucking _shit._

He’d spanked her. He’d actually fucking _spanked_ her, and her entire body sang with pleasure. Her pussy clenched beautifully, even more so when that same enormous hand massaged the sting away.

There was no coming back from this, and kinkiness be _damned_ , she never wanted to.

“You still think you’re in charge, hm?” A finger teased all the way from her clit to her backside, wringing another wanton cry from her throat. “This pussy belongs to _me_ right now, baby.” _Slap!_ “Your orgasm belongs to _me.”_ _Slap!_ “And I’ll fuck you—” _Slap!_ “—when you learn—” _Slap!_ “—to listen _.” Slap!_

Her bottom was on fire, but it only emphasized the mortifying amount of wetness dripping down her thighs. She was a goner, prisoner to his every whim, and now she would accept it.

“Oh _god—_ so-so sorry daddy. I’ll be good, I promise! Whatever you want— _please.”_

His self-satisfied hum startled her, the way it vibrated against her spine. Those lovely lips traced each ridge, a maddening path down to her bum that made her shiver.

“There’s a good girl,” he purred, running a finger up the inside of her quivering thigh. “Mmm, you’re dripping for me sweetheart. You ready for daddy’s cock?”

_Holy hell._ “Yes please.”

She wouldn’t survive this night, but _god_ would it be worth it.

“Good. Let me grab a condom.”

“Um—you don’t, I mean—” Wow, she sucked at communicating when she was this horny. “Ugh! I _mean—_ I’m clean, and I’m on the pill. So if you’re clean….”

For whatever reason, she wanted to _feel_ him, _really_ feel him in every way possible. She’d never been rawed before—never been comfortable enough with a partner to desire it—but the more she thought about _Kylo_ reaming her unwrapped, the wetter she became.

She could hear his shit-eating grin in his reply. “I’m clean, baby.” The head of his cock suddenly nudged her entrance, and she nearly jumped. “You’re sure?”

She’d never been more sure of anything in her life, but she settled for, “Yes, daddy.”

When she then waggled her hips, he groaned.

“Naughty little thing,” he muttered, rubbing himself through her folds like a hot knife through butter.

Then he was pushing in.

Rey braced herself against the iron headboard, sobbing with relief now that he was finally filling her. Kylo, meanwhile, was panting, clinging to her for dear life.

_“Fuck,_ you’re tight,” he hissed, inching forward a little more. He stretched her perfectly, if a bit slower than she’d like, but once he was fully sheathed inside her, time was but an abstract concept anyway.

They alone existed in this moment, their own tiny infinity, and Rey never wanted it to end.

Then he started moving.

“Oh my _god,”_ she groaned, meeting him thrust for thrust. He was obviously holding back, trying not to hurt her, but she couldn’t endure his gentleness much longer.

“ _Please,_ daddy, please— _harder.”_

“I know, sweetheart. I’m gonna give you what you need.”

Fuck, he sounded wrecked. Before she could consider that he might be just as affected as she was, he was moving, sliding almost completely out of her and then back in so roughly it knocked the breath from her lungs.

“Christ, Rey—holy _shit—”_

He set a punishing pace then, fucking her into the mattress like a man possessed. One arm he braced beside her as the other curled around her hips, yanking her back to meet his thrusts. She could only warble her pleasure, reveling in this newfound level of bliss as she took him over and over and over.

“So good, baby— _god—_ gonna fuck you for _days_ sweetheart, _mine, mine, mine, mine—”_

_Yours, yours, yours, yours,_ her heart replied.

His thrusts grew shallower, yet nonetheless powerful. The head of his cock bumped her cervix on every pass, ramming her full of ecstasy.

_“Ahhhh—daddyyy—!”_

“You like taking daddy’s fat cock, baby girl? Hm? I feel your little cunt trying to suck the cum out of me—is that what you want?”

_“God_ , _yes!”_

“Then cum, little one. Cum for daddy and it’s all yours.”

_“Ahhhhh!”_

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—!”

Their twin cries of rapture mingled like some sacred hymn, a holy incantation that would bind them for all eternity. Rational thought completely eluded her, but nonetheless, her blood now sang his name.

He owned her body and soul, and on some primitive level, she knew she owned him, too.

They were two sides of the same coin. A match made in heaven.

Twin souls.

Two that were one.

A dyad.

Nothing would separate them now.

.%*{fin}*%.

**Author's Note:**

> your comments give me life, as do your kudos ❤️
> 
> come yell at me on the bird app: @aquill2thrill
> 
> and if I wasn’t clear enough earlier, GO FOLLOW KRISTA REN (@KylosWidow) IF YOU WANT YEARS ADDED TO YOUR LIFE


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